Glass
by Aya Minazaki
Summary: Something short that I wrote for NijiHai week


I am looking at you.

I always did.

We are irritatingly different, unbearably similar.

I am your antithesis, but we are both dreamers to the core; we just let our eyes lingering on different horizons. Our foolish games, our wars, our anger.

I never stopped looking at you.

You are internally, innately fragile.

Just like me.

And, just like me, you spent years pretending to be strong.

How many times you pretended to be cold?

How many times you acted like you didn't actually care, while you felt your own love going wasted and your own flesh reduced to powder?

You can easily pretend to be ice: your skin is pale, just like the sun in the winter days,

you finger are tapering and slim, like dead wood, and everything in you reminds me of the snow of your mountains.

You are a monument to an elegant solitude and a refined isolation,

you spent years with everyone, but your heart never melted with anyone, isn't it?

You are not so different from me.

Still, you let yourself hope something good would have arrived and happiness with it.

I always knew you didn't care about power, about war- that kind of stuff was mine,

you just wanted to have someone close and not being alone anymore.

But in all your years, year after year, blink after blink, you lost everyone.

Your bestfriend, your first husband, your delicious wife・ your child.

Your family shattered.

Your family was never real.

You are not ice, you are glass.

Just like me.

You can pretend to be something else with everyone else, but not with me. Because I am exactly the same.

Once somebody said that white and black are closer to each other than to every other colour. Probably it's true.

When you play basketball, with your stupid grin I don't understand, you are so distant we don't even seem both teammates

but, then, suddenly, when you close your eyes, chasing with those notes an ideal, an utopian state of mind, I finally see we are exactly the same.

What I do with the ferociousness, you do with elegance .

What I search between corpses, you search between sheets.

A whole new world, a place where our hearts will finally be able to stop feeling lost.

Fernweh, farsickness, an ache for the distance.

Does it even exist somewhere we could be better?

I never stopped looking at you.

Arrogance, elegance... a sophisticated shy guy, but so passionate.

You don't even seem one of our family, always putting hobbies before duty, but even this only makes your more tempting.

You never give up. You never surrender.

But you are not really interested in fights.

Your flame burns only for basketball, for your art, for the Beauty. My world, my value system, my whole being, to you... doesn't mean anything at all.

I may seem a fool to you, isn't it?

A greedy, irrational, cruel beast.

But I'm not so bloodthirsty, so power-hungry, because of the brute force thrill.

My pleasure is not subduing in itself.

I just don't want them to look inside me anymore.

I am alone. Terribly alone.

Just like you are.

Two beings made of glass, shattered glass.

You covered yourself with beautiful, chiseled gold. I covered myself in raw, dirty blood.

You spent centuries between weddings and marriages, trying to find purity and happiness, but feeling that cold, icy, emptiness inside.

I conquered, hoping someday to find something good in rubble.

I destroyed. You created.

But we were still both alone.

I always looked at your eyes.

black.

Like a gem: something useless, something merely decorative. Something beautiful.

My eyes are grey

Like ash: something useful, something deeply necessary. Something awful.

And if I am a necessary Evil, you are the incredible Beauty that lies beneath the darkness.

I hated you so many years; how many decades passed from our first fight?

But, even if I always wanted to hurt you, it was not the kind of hate that is born from repudiation, but the one that is purely made of hunger.

I want, always wanted, to bite you. To devour you.

To tear you apart, sinking my teeth in your flesh and feeling your sweet scent in my mouth.

You are what I always searched in my rubble.

You are my far away somewhere.

I want you, I want to hold you.

Hold you so strong I could break all your bones - so you would never be able to go to anybody else.

I want to chain your wrists to my heart, to nail you to my bones.

We can't mix, we can't blend... but could we ever be apart?

I desire you, I hate you.

I loathe you, I long for you.

You, you alone. I never wanted anybody else, in my life.

I want your hands against my skin, I don't even care if trying to push me away or pulling me closer. You are everything I crave for.

Why didn't you ever look at me that way?

Can't you feel how the air, the space, between us becomes like an heavy, dense, burden on our chests?

Didn't you ever- just... thought of me... like your black hole?

Your gravity is crushing me.

You annihilate my self-control and I find myself becoming my own desire of sinking in you.

You are glass and I want to shatter you ...and feel you cutting me, until I can die, bleeding to death, in your arms.

In the rubble of the only thing I ever wanted-

Loved.

Can't you see?

I am staring.


End file.
